


A Thousand Words

by crookperkdeck



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, more cheesy content for the holidays really, which of course deserves a cheesy hallmark esque title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28332384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookperkdeck/pseuds/crookperkdeck
Summary: Dallas finds a new project in the form of a photo album.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	A Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> Another year, another Payday Secret Santa! My partner requested some stuff with Dallas and Hoxton, the safehouse, and the holidays, so I hope this fits it all! Thank you for reading!

When Dallas brings in the photo album, Hoxton immediately knows his intentions. He recognizes it's no sort of family heirloom Dallas dug up to reminisce on baby pictures of himself or his precious little brother, but Hoxton asks if it is anyway--both to cause a reaction in the other man and to draw attention to the album, which he's sure Dallas brought in to be a conversation piece in the first place.

"It's empty," Dallas says, after denying Hoxton's initial claim. "I'm going to fill this thing by the end of the year. Cover-to-fucking-cover."

"Candids of the safehouse sounds like the job of the next 'SkepticGuy'," Hoxton reminds him, the paranoia sparked by the event still fresh in his mind. "Or the next thief-to-be working in cahoots with the lad. How about you take up birdwatching with Wolf instead?"

Wolf, temporarily sitting on the sidelines from heisting and sick of repairing the broken drills amassed from each one, had taken up the hobby to keep himself busy. Last time Hoxton had talked to him about it, Wolf said with genuine vitriol that if he saw another goddamn sparrow he would go outside and shoot it himself, which he took as a fairly typical outlook.

"I'm not gonna be a _birder_. If you don't want a picture, you don't gotta go in there."

"Fine, go on then, I'd love to be your first subject. You'll find my good side is easy to locate," Hoxton says, offering up the right side of his face.

There's a moment of silence before Dallas says something, mumbles it actually, and Hoxton is _gleeful_ in the opportunity to pounce on that.

"What's that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said I haven't bought a camera yet, asshole."

Even Clover, constant victim to overhearing their banter by sharing the office with them, finds this hilarious, and both her and Hoxton are in stitches over how Dallas, leader of the Payday Gang and planner extraordinaire, has put his cart before the horse for a _photo album_ , of all things.

-

The heckling Dallas received seems to motivate him even more for his little project, and he not only procures a camera in record time, but even consults Aldstone on which is the best one to purchase. When it arrives, Hoxton has to admit the two of them did a good job--it would put his own father's possessions to shame were the man alive to see it.

He's no specialist on cameras, but now Dallas seems to have risen to be the expert; talking each and everyone's ear off about the thing when they come to investigate what the new and sparkly addition to the safehouse is. And, to Hoxton's disappointment, he sets on using it immediately.

He hoped the photography thing would be a simple whim that would be abandoned shortly after, but he's known Dallas long enough to know that that wouldn't be the case. The man is admirably stubborn, and the entire DC police force has borne witness to his level of dedication. "Let ‘em keep coming,” he’d say. “They’ll be running with their fucking tails tucked between their legs when I’m done with them,” which was normally reassuring to hear for the kinds of situations the gang would find itself in.

Now, it's cause of some concern for Hoxton. He'd humored it for his own curiosity, but photos of the safehouse and the heisters within, maskless and all, existing _anywhere_ makes his skin crawl with just the thought of it. He'd made a happy nest for everyone with Aldstone's help and had no clue why Dallas would think of endangering the sanctity of that.

Hoxton can only hope he’ll smarten up about it in due time, watching the man from a distance as he struggles to line up the camera for a good shot of the fruit bowl in the kitchen.

-

Most of the heisters in the safehouse have their own convictions about the camera, but nothing that'd entirely dissuade them from being added to the album. Sydney and Chains, for instance, have the pride in their work win out. Jiro wants a picture for safekeeping of the turtle that’s in his care and can’t argue when it ends up being a side-by-side of the two of them as if the animal is a newborn infant. Even Houston entertains his brother's hobby, though he insists on pointing out the best angles of the van to take, which, in Hoxton’s opinion, ends up looking like the least interesting parts of the vehicle.

None of them insist on wearing their masks, either. Guns and alcohol and drugs galore, their naked faces display a side to them the media would probably never capture. An extremely _risky_ side were anyone to connect the dots, but they seem to have so much faith in their dear leader that going up to Dallas and taking the camera and all of its pictures to throw into a bonfire is only on Hoxton's mind.

Clover and Dragan are the only ones that seem to be on his side, and outright refuse pictures entirely. Clover because she says it would ruin her chances of going into high society when this was over—a plan Hoxton had never even heard of before, considering her ridicule of his life in the past—and Dragan because "actions speak louder than photographs", whatever the fuck that meant.

Their combined displeasure isn’t enough to stop Dallas, but it’s enough for Hoxton to know he isn’t alone.

-

It’s a safehouse raid that ends up being the kicker.

A routine visit to Harvest & Trustee left the safehouse with their guard down, and with Wick out on said heist, there’s no one either prepared or paranoid enough to catch sight of the police until they were smashing in the windows.

Apparently, the goddamn goat they keep around reacted faster than the heisters inside and took out at least 3 of the cops, and that was the only note of positivity about the whole affair.

The cloakers that arrived with the force were looking for information rather than for their own kicks, and were able to snatch up several of Hoxton's documents before absconding.

It leaves him feeling very exposed, to say the least, and he turns the office upside down trying to take inventory of what’s left. This includes Dallas's desk, looking for the photo album, and finds it to be missing.

For a moment his blood runs cold, and then gets red-hot as all of his silent resentment surfaces.

Dallas comes in completely unaware, seemingly more perturbed by the damage Hoxton was doing than anything else. "Hey, Hox, how about respecting a guy’s personal space here—"

" _Where is it?"_ Hoxton interrupts. "The one time I stay fucking quiet and look what gets snatched up in the raid! Might as well have autographed the fucking thing, so they know who to thank!”

Dallas stiffens and, doing some rapid inference, answers with hands raised, "Hey, _hey_ , easy. It’s not _here_ because it’s with Aldstone. Some pictures didn’t come out quite right and he insisted on fixing them himself. I, uh, didn’t listen to his instructions on how to get rid of red eyes in a picture…”

Hoxton has to hold onto the desk to brace himself for the kind of sigh of relief that escapes him, and he decides to regain himself instead of listening to Dallas’s words. Aldstone’s room was wildly out of the scope of danger during a safehouse raid even if the man wasn’t trained up on the display guns in there, so Hoxton wasn’t concerned about the album’s safety in his care.

His voice is still hard when he asks, "Does this make it crystal clear to you, then? Can’t have your head shoved so far up your arse you can’t see the fucking bomb you brought in on us. Cops aren’t going to call it off because you’ve gotten the bright idea to conveniently nestle everyone’s faces together.”

Dallas seems irritated by his words and takes the defensive, and that only causes Hoxton’s anger to flare up. “I’ve _got_ it, okay? I didn’t do this before because I have a plan, so you have to just trust me.”

“Oh? What sort of details are in this plan, if not ‘having it go tits up the first month of having it’?”

“I…can’t tell you that yet.”

The laugh Hoxton lets out is profoundly sardonic, and he instead brings his attention to his own documents and starts gathering that up. “Sure, pile on some more puzzles for us to crack, this shit with the Kataru and Bain _really_ isn’t enough.”

Dallas doesn’t have a response to that for a long while. Eventually, he lends a hand in cleaning up the office, and affirms, quietly, “I’ll be more careful with it. Find a better hiding spot and…make sure to burn the originals.”

The tension in the air weighing on them is heavy, and Hoxton has nothing more to say to him, but for some reason the words bring him comfort.

-

Dallas gets what he wants, in the end.

Months pass, and finally the holiday season is upon them, putting all of the heisters uniquely at ease, and Hoxton can't help but be among them.

It was obvious to anyone that Christmas is important to him, and the amount of holiday paraphernalia he purchases is record-breaking for the safehouse. He has to go through a number of different buyers so it doesn’t seem suspicious, and it’s almost worth the work that has to be put in to set it all up. Luckily, almost everyone is happy to volunteer for it, the only exceptions getting into the spirit in their own ways.

He starts to wonder, while putting up one of the many wreaths, whether Dallas has as well, or if extra work has won out, and then he hears the familiar click of the camera and turns to meet it.

"It's just the wreath in there, not you," Dallas immediately defends upon meeting his eyes, and Hoxton can't help but feel like the asshole for it. Yes, he still believed he had all the right to act the way he did, but time has cleared the air enough. If there was any time to get pictures, this was it, and he was in no mood to continue being hostile about it.

"And miss out on the handsome looking picture it’d make if I was in it?" he asks, and even poses for it, and Dallas all but _preens_ in response. It's not just some sort of winning him over he's so happy about, Hoxton can tell, but about having this all catalogued. He's taking account for what he wants to remember, the sentimental bastard, and it's hard to not admire that.

Or maybe it's just Christmas making him soft.

"Long as you get more than that, of course," Hoxton says, and gestures to the house. "Wrangling all of this shit was a fucking trial and a half; I want an entire section of the photo album dedicated to it.”

"Of course," Dallas humors, following his eye, but Hoxton believes his word to be honest.

And Hoxton watches him make it happen, gathering images from all over the house over the passing days, of all the heisters doing their part, and there isn't a word of protest. It seems the season allows everyone to let their guards down—that, or the alcohol provided—and Dallas is right behind them. He's practically glowing with the success of his little project, and Hoxton decides not to take him down a peg for it, for now.

Dallas even shows him some of the pictures before they get developed, of Bonnie sharing spiced mead she had made with the other heisters, of Bodhi’s new snowboarding gear, of Sokol challenging everyone to a hockey competition in the basement, of Jimmy and Scarface seeing who could make the best Santa beard out of cocaine. Things he was too busy to see for himself.

"Aren't you glad I took 'em now so you wouldn't miss out?" Dallas asks, now taking the opportunity to revel in his victory.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, now," Hoxton warns, to no avail.

-

Hoxton puts the album out of his mind after that. He ends up putting some trust in Dallas, even after the holiday season passes, and barely notices when the man is at work with his camera anymore.

It’s difficult to anyhow, with time running out and the heists getting more high stakes than Hoxton could have ever predicted. But somehow, they do it, pulling off the greatest heist of all time, getting their pardons, killing the Dentist…

And everyone leaves to go live their own lives.

Hoxton, Dallas, Chains, Wolf, and Houston spend the last day alone to recount their time together—even with Locke, Jimmy, and Vlad seeming either too sentimental or too invasive to try to let them be alone. They see their new president on the television and get into an entire wave of stories to tell each other. Finally, almost suddenly, Hoxton remembers the album.

"You brought that camera along, Dallas? This'd be a good time as any to bring it out, get one last shot of us for the memories." And Dallas stiffens, shy suddenly, so Hoxton supplements, "What, you lose it or something?"

"No, I still got it, just uh...not the photo album," Dallas says, and then smiles, cheekily. "I thought the president could use a welcoming gift into office."

Hoxton's first instinct is to laugh out of shock as the realization comes to him. Of course Dallas would have planned for something like that, all the way back then, and why he wanted so many pictures of the gang. He'd hinted at that secret plan, but Hoxton figured it was for Dallas to remember, not…

"Bain hasn't met us at the safehouse since the early days, so I figured he'd wanna see what he missed out on."

"You _would_ ," Hoxton says, and he’s never been more reassured by something coming to fruition. "He's going to appreciate that, don't you worry."

Chains, overhearing their conversation, chirps up from next to them, "Hey, uh, speaking of which…Dallas, you didn't keep _that_ picture from the holidays, did you?"

"Oh, you bet I did," Dallas answers in a state of smug satisfaction, and Chains playfully scoops a handful of sand at him.

"God, fuck you, man," Chains says, with a complete lack of seriousness in his voice, and Wolf speaks up from the bout of silence he’s had the entire time they’ve been there.

"I'm trying to watch the fucking television, can you keep it down?" he says, a mask and hat still very obviously covering his eyes, and it gets the other three retired heisters laughing.

There was no camera nearby, but Hoxton tries to retain the image to memory anyway.


End file.
